Gwendion is \"Welcomed\" to Minas Tirith

Port of Harlond: Rammas Gate

The road has led you hither, to the very walls of the Rammas Echor and the guarded gate that lies between you and the port of Harlond upon Anduin. The very air is astir with the sounds of passing merchants and hakwers en route to Minas Tirith where, hopefully, they may sell what wares as they have brought north. A few squat buildings of various functions line the road up to the gate itself, some of which serve as the offices for the port authorities. The gate-guards pay you little heed as their attentions are focused mainly upon those who pass into the Rammas, for those who depart offer little threat. Beyond these men and through the gate there lies the sprawling dock itself and the shining waters of Anduin the Great.

Overlooking the docks there stands a small mansion topped with a stone tower. That would be Minas Cirdain, the Tower of the House of the Shipwrights and serves as their home in this land far from Pelargir-Upon-Anduin.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

Harlond is bright this spring early afternoon. Few clouds hang in the sky, white puffs slowly traversing towards the horizon, while a cool breeze lifts the smell of the sea and runs it across the stone lined streets of the city. Near the docks, the local tavernkeep stands outside his squat building, talking to one of the customers, a Knight of Belfalas by his garb, taking their meal outside.

A few angry shouts and the sound of thumping footsteps proceed the appearance of a White Squire, who comes racing around the corner of the street to press himself flat against a building directly opposite the tavern. Seconds later, two Blue Squires race past, only they don\'t make the turn into this street, mistakenly pursuing another figure in white on the crowded street. Safe for the moment, Menelglir erupts into a fit of laughter--not seeing the Knight and tavernkeep opposite.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

The event is not unnoticed by the Knight and his eyes fall on the squire wearing white. He motions for the tavernkeep to leave, the keep with a look towards the squire nods and retires without complaint, and there he sits. Watching.

Lost in his own momentary merriment, this one Squire is quite oblivious to the presence of the Knight--at least at first. Menelglir\'s fit of laughter fades soon enough, and he stays pressed against the wall for several long moments, watching the cross street for any sign of his pursuers. They don\'t return, however, and with relief flooding his face, Menelglir steps away from the wall and takes a step out into the street. From his left hand--previously hidden behind his back--dangles some battered blue cloth, suspiciously like the blue of a Blue Squire\'s tunic.

The Knight\'s gaze, though, finally raises the hairs on the back of his neck, perhaps, for he turns his glance that way, finally notices Gwendion. And freezes.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

The Knight with one hand, lifts his cup to his lips sipping at it, and with the other curtly waves the Squire to him.

\"Sir..\" Menelglir obeys, crossing the street to stand next to the Knight\'s table, but not before he glances left and right as if seeking some means of escape. Resigned, he stands there, the blue material still in his left hand, which he lets hang by his side, not bothering to hide it. Many threads hang down from the battered cloth, which appears to be the remnants of a tunic sleeve. Except it looks as if it has been chewed upon quite thoroughly.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

As the squire approaches, the features of the Knight come better into view. His armor is dull and aged, as are his garments. His cheeks bear whiskers days old. His build is not that of a great warrior of Belfalas, but an average man, his armor somewhat lose around his frame.

His voice comes calm and easy, \"Sit, lad,\" and a motion to the seat across him.

It\'s obviously not the reaction Menelglir was expecting, for confusion flashes on the youth\'s face. Nevertheless, he sits, clumsily stuffing the half-eaten sleeve into the sleeve of his own tunic, as he does so--and trying to half turn to hide that action from the Knight. \"Yes sir,\" he says when seated.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

\"You hide your trophy? Are you not proud of what you have done?\" he asks straightforwardly.

The youth colors red. \"Well...I ..he deserved it,\" Menelglir says, pushing forward stubbornly after a slight pause. \"I\'m not anyone\'s seamstress or tailor, even if they _are_ a Blue Squire. I mean...well, for a Knight...\" he stumbles. \"So I..uh..experimented. After I told him at least 4 times I wouldn\'t sew it for him!\" he adds in a hurry.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

\"So then you are proud you gave him what he deserved, yes?\" He leans closer, conspiratorially, \"You did the right thing, of course. You did what you knew in your heart to be correct. Certainly, you thought well of the topic and picked the best possible action for the situation you were in. There was no other choice, yes?\"

\"I did and I am,\" Menelglir nods, initially eager to agree with the Knight\'s line of reasoning. \"I mean...\" he continues, doubt creeping into his tone as Gwendion continues, \"There were other choices. But...but this was the most interesting one!\" He finishes on a note of confidence--perhaps defiance, even.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

\"Interesting. Hmm,\" he appraises the boy, leaning back and stroking his whiskers, \"True men, of Imrahil, Gondor or any other land, are concerned with what is right and what is wrong. What must be done and what must never be done. Who you must serve, and who you never give quarter to. Sometimes these things are interesting, sometimes very, other times less so. But,\" he sighs, \"Your mind must be mindful of your choices in this regard, for all things. Whereas, a child is free to explore and push against the edges of these absolutes. And as they push, society corrects them and prepares them for when those boundaries can no longer be pushed against. So, for instance, for me if I were to come upon a White Squire who had pushed too hard against these boundaries, I would be placed in an interesting situation to decided what I must do. If a young man wears the White Squire garb, I think I could speak to him rationally, speak to his mind and his heart and as a man he would understand the right and wrong of it and make amends.\"

He pauses, clearing his throat, \"Or, perhaps it was never a White Squire at all, but a child playing pretend. For that, I would simply strip him to underclothes, paddle his bum and send him back to his mother. But sometimes, the decision is difficult. It is hard to tell if I am facing a man... or a child.\"

He pauses again, looking away from the boy and sipping from his drink. \"But I digress too much. It is better I think, for you to think on the merits of action, not on their interestingness. Now, while you do this, I too must ponder a question running through my head.\" And he goes silent, his eyes never looking away from the squire as he tilts his head, appraising him.

\"Pushed too hard..\" Menelglir\'s brows knit together as he repeats those words quietly, frowning. He glances but once at the Knight, his face coloring once more as he drops his eyes to the table and falls silent except for two words.

\"Yes, sir.\"

[Gwendion(#24427)]

Approving of the boy\'s response, he smiles, \"Ah, good. Then no more needs to be spoken of this topic. A man, and especially a knight, once his word is given, the,\" he hesitates for a fraction of a second, \"Spirit, of the topic is no longer up for debate or discussion.\"

\"Your Knight is here in Harlond then, Squire...?\"

\"You have my word,\" Menelglir sighs, resigned to this course as he takes the balled-up sleeve out from where he hid it under his tunic and places it on the table. \"I\'ll set it right.\"

Still somewhat glum and low-key from, perhaps, now being sworn to no longer glory in this bit of triumph, he at first just shakes his head to the question, eyes still down as he then also answers. \"No sir, I\'m sworn as a White Squire only a few months ago. I\'m not attached to any Knight. Not yet at least. But my brother and I are wards of the Lady Laeraelin now, and so we are here. And Arashen--Sir Arashen,\" he corrects hastily, \"is our cousin.\"

[Gwendion(#24427)]

\"Lady Laeraelin, Sir Arashen,\" he rolls the names over his tongue, no recognition of them behind his eyes, \"Yes, of course. And your name, lad? And your cousin has not expressed an interest in you himself?\"

\"Telpekhor..Menelglir Telpekhor,\" the Squire says, filling in the missing information. \"I thought I couldn\'t be Blue Squire to someone in my family, sir? Better to avoid any hint of favoritism?\"

[Gwendion(#24427)]

To this note he rubs his chin, \"Well, of course, officially. But, favoritism can be found anywhere. Though, it is good to see Sir Arashen is minding the letter and the spirit of the rule.\"

\"Menelglir... Telpekhor. Thus far,\" he says, cautiously, \"What else have you learned that a White Squire must do?\"

\"Arashe..Sir Arashen,\" Menelglir sighs, \"is always correct about everything. My cousins tell me I should be more like him,\" he grimaces.

\"Sir?\" The youth squints up his face in response to the question. \"Well, I suppose practice with weapons every day. Constantly. Learn how to listen to orders and execute them right. Uh..\" Quite clearly he\'s struggling.

[Laeghen(#10683)]

Striding by the table containing the man and boy is a figure garbed in greens and browns. Footfalls carry him by the table just in time to hear the youth\'s statement over Arashen, and the green-gauntleted man turns about to blink at the table. \"/Sir/ Arashen?\" he balks, stepping closer. \"That snot-nosed youth is never right about anything. And they deemed fit to put him to Knight?\" Sighing, Laeghen shakes his head. \"They must be getting desperate in Dol Amroth these days....\"

[Gwendion(#24427)]

The knight opens his mouth to speak when the Ranger gets his words in before his breath can even be caught. His brow furrows at the ranger as he complains about Arashen, \"Desperate in Dol Amroth. Queer to hear words of desperation used such from one who patrols the east. Or at least is garbed to do so.\"

Menelglir\'s mouth drops open at these words and he blinks in surprise. \"Snot-nosed?\" he repeats quietly, trying ever so hard to keep the twinkle in his eyes from turning into outright laughter.

\"You\'re one of those Rangers, then? My brother wanted to be a Scout--some Ranger named Ceredir nearly talked him into it. Never been a Telpekhor Scout before....\"

[Laeghen(#10683)]

Laughter spills forth from the lips of the Ranger, his head shaking at one or both of the men\'s comments. \"/Ranger/ Ceredir?\" A smirk rests upon his lips. \"Nay. No Ranger. Master Scout.\" Glancing towards the Knight now, Laeghen\'s lips curl upwards. \"We who patrol the east do so with vigilance. I spent months in Ithilien before it was time for me to take a touch of a break, and tend to other matters more.. personal. You would learn well from us, and so would your order.\"

[Gwendion(#24427)]

\"Indeed, and yet you jeer the desperation that your order and indeed all of Gondor sits within behind the protection your bow as well as Arashen\'s sword. Thus all I have learned from your order is that, on occasion, a ranger can act much like the common ass. And that bit of knowledge I have gleaned from this conversation, my thanks to you,\" he says with a nod of his head.

\"But worry not, this lesson has been learned well. I shall be sure to be mindful of it in the future, protector of the East, and spread teachings of it far and wide.\"

\"Master Scout,\" Menelglir says, repeating the correction in a tone that might indicate it\'s all the same to him. \"So...a Telpekhor could be a Scout? Our house has always served the Prince, but my brother wanted to get away from that. But anyone can be a Scout, not just nobles, right?\" the Squire continues, either oblivious to or uncaring of the verbal battle between Knight and Ranger. His lips do twist once as their exchanges occur, but it could easily be frustration as anger.

[Laeghen(#10683)]

Turning his gaze from Gwendion, his jaw set firm, Laeghen now focuses solely upon the Squire. \"Yes. He could.\" he states simply. \"However, if you will excuse me.\" Glancing towards the Knight, he adds, \"The atmosphere has left a foul taste in my mouth, and a ringing in my ears.\" Without another word, or a backward glance, the Ranger turns about and begins to make his way from their shared table.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

As the Ranger leaves, Gwendion looks back to the squire with some sadness, \"My apologies to you, boy. I\'m sure Arashen is a fine Knight and that man there,\" he nods towards the departing figure, \"A fine soldier for Gondor. The East wraps a man tight, everyday left there leaving you wrapped tighter still. Till one day you are killed in service or your mind snaps at the weight of it all.\"

He concludes finishing his drink, \"A tough life. Noble and unfair.\"

\"More so than fighting for the Prince?\" Menelglir replies, perplexed. He swivels in his chair to watch Laeghen wind his way down the street, then turns back to Gwendion. \"Why would that be so, sir? And if that\'s the cause, then maybe I should talk my brother out of it. Have him swear as a White Squire, like me.\"

[Gwendion(#24427)]

\"He should do what his heart tells him is right. The Rangers of Ithilien will be,\" he clears his throat, \"Are the first to die as the East pushes west. There is no other future for those people. Their family lines are cursed with the responsibility and it is the gravest of paths to follow in their\'s. But, can you look into the eyes of a man who has sworn to die so that you may live a bit longer and call his life anything but noble and unfair?\" He shouts for the keep, then adds to the boy, \"I cannot.\"

\"But you called him a common ass,\" Menelglir insists. \"If his life is noble and unfair and he will die first, is he still an ass?\"

\"As for my brother, he doesn\'t know his own heart. I think he wants to be free to do whatever he wants and not have to answer to anyone anymore--and I don\'t see how that can possibly be if he decides to be a soldier anywhere. But if that\'s what he wants...\" he shrugs.

\"And..\" the Squire adds with a frown as the thought comes to him, \"it\'s not as if we don\'t face danger. I mean, even the Prince himself is missing...maybe..maybe lost.\" His voice loses its energy at that last.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

Another sigh, \"Well, I would argue that an ass\' life is noble and unfair as well. To carry the burden of men without say in the matter? A Ranger\'s life is more similar than not.\"

\"As to your bother, most children wish such things. As they grow older, they realize what we face and the bleak choices put to us as men. He can be free, but then he abandons Gondor to whatever fate befalls her. He can work, as a soldier or a tinkerer, to her benefit and at the least die with some pride. But, it is a hard thing to imagine when one is so young,\" his words are strong, but his face betrays his unease at them.

\"Then...\" Menelglir\'s expression darkens and he can no longer meet the Knight\'s eyes, \"then there is no hope at all? That\'s what it would seem, from the way you put it. I mean..Sir Imrakhor--he asked why I wanted to be a Squire, and I said that I would rather die fighting than just curl in a ball and do nothing and wait to die. But..if there is no hope in what we do at all--I will still want to die fighting, but I want to know how desperate it is.\"

[Gwendion(#24427)]

\"Well, we sit now and drink do we not?\" he says, motioning to the keep as he steps outside to fill his empty cup, \"We sing, we dance, we love and though we receive fewer than They take, we have children and they grow to sing and dance as well.\"

\"Hope? Hope doesn\'t matter. You fight to protect that as long as you can. Either you succeed or you die. The fact that you can run about town with the sleeve of a peer in your hands means that perhaps, for some, not all hope is lost. But no man knows the future, all you can do what you must. If you have hope that it will matter then savor it. But one day, you may find yourself out of hope and then what will you use as your crutch? What will push you forward? Duty. Honor. Courage. These never falter as hope can. You do what you must. If you cannot do it, make way for one who can.\"

Again, his words seem to make him sad rather than proud as some might be. He avoids looking at the squire, his words taking his eyes to the street around him and towards the port, as he speaks.

\"But..\" Menelglir\'s gaze follows the Knight\'s out to the port and he falls quiet, but it is only for the moment. \"But you\'re a Knight, still. You haven\'t lost those things, have you?\" he frowns as his brow furrow together. \"You haven\'t given up, have you?\"

[Gwendion(#24427)]

\"That\'s a rude question for a young man, lad. Do not question your elders till you have the wisdom to judge their answers.\"

\"Now, what is it you are up to in the city? Are squires free to move to and fro from the Chapter House?\"

\"Sorry, sir,\" Menelglir answers in a hurry, not able to stop himself from flinching briefly at the rebuke. \"Well, uh...to a certain extent, yes,\" he says, clearning his throat and then glancing ruefully at the mangled blue cloth, which is sleeve-shaped. \"I was out on an errand and that done I..uh..got distracted. Sir. But you said that as long as I\'m taking care of it--that you have my word...\"

[Arashen(#24692)]

The creak of leather and clink of metal is all there is to give warning of the tavern\'s newest arrival. A young Knight approaches his brethern. He inclines his brow to his colleague and offers the squire, his kinsman a wane smile. \"Greetings Menelglir,\" says Arashen.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

A new cup delivered, the Knight sips from it even as the other of his kin approaches. He offers the man his arm to shake, as he rises, \"And I am Gwendion, newly arrived to the City.\"

\"Sir,\" Menelglir answers, sticking to the formal address as his cousin arrives and standing a moment after Gwendion does. \"This is my cousin,\" he notes to Gwendion, \"Sir Arashen Telpekhor, whom we were just speaking about...\" though for some reason the Squire has a hard time getting those words out. \"And this is..well..I don\'t think you ever told me your name. Sorry, sir.\"

[Arashen(#24692)]

The elder of the Telpekhor grasps the other Knight\'s arm firmly. \"And I am Sir Arashen,\" as my young kinsman has mentioned, \"The Azure Knight of Belfalas. Well met, brother.\"

Arching one brow, the younger Knight looks at his cousin. \"I hope you spoke well of me?\"

[Gwendion(#24427)]

\"He spoke no ills of you to me,\" Gwendion replies, \"Your cousin is young yet, but he seems to have a good heart. A little practice and a little work and his mind and body will follow suit I think.\"

\"_I_ spoke well of you,\" Menelglir answers, blushing some and then looking very relieved at Gwendion\'s reply, which results in the Squire giving a quick and embarrassed \"thank you,\" toward that man.

\"But I think we should try to talk Meren out of joining the Scouts. It doesn\'t seem right for him. He may be set on it...but I\'m going to try.\" Seeming rather decided on that, the Squire settles back in his chair and falls silent.

[Arashen(#24692)]

\"No doubt,\" answers Arashen. Though whether it is to one comment or both is unclear. He pulls a chair out from the table. \"Do not let me interrupt your meal.\"

\"Have you come to Minas Tirith for a specific reason, Gwendion, or have you too been assigned to the nether regions while our fair city languishes under the assault of Corsairs and worries over its missing Princes?\"

[Gwendion(#24427)]

\"Reassigned actually,\" he says, retaking his seat, \"I ran the western coasts for the last few years but I suppose from my new orders that south grows as a threat. Or at least seems to without the Prince to guide us. My orders now are to take on Squires as I can, train them and use my ship to push against Umbar as I am able,\" his explanation is not filled with joy. His words come with some gruffness behind them and his manner hardens some as he explains his mission.

\"You are from the Chapterhouse here then, yes? What news of the city can you give me?\"

[Arashen(#24692)]

\"I am more often of the Chapterhouse than not,\" Arashen replies taking a seat. \"But I am afraid I have little news of this place to share - other than what has been known before. Osgiliath is quiet, the Steward doesn\'t need the Knights and yet we stay on as Prince Imrahil commanded - most likely because he is not here to remand the order now that the threat to Gondor has shifted.\"

\"I myself have been traveling back and forth between Minas Tirith and Dol Amroth on the Knight-Captain\'s orders. But he has no need of me at the moment, and so I guess I sit and keep my skills honed and wait for my sword to be needed.\"

[Gwendion(#24427)]

\"I have heard of rumors of a threat to Tol Falas. That Umbar plans to use it as a stage to sack Pelargir once more. Have you sailed the bay at all the last few weeks? Has Umbar been silent on all fronts?\" the knight asks.

[Arashen(#24692)]

\"I have sailed only to travel from here to Dol Amroth,\" Arashen replies. \"I have heard reports of scattered raids on merchant ships and a few encounters between Corsairs and the warships of Dol Amroth. A few months ago, a report came from Anfalas that a woman matching the description of the Pretender\'s sister raided a village there - but other than that, I have heard no word of more aggressive actions than is usual.\"

\"An invasion Tol Falas, eh?\" the young Knight muses, rubbing his chin. \"I do not suppose you have room on your ship for another sword?\"

\"You\'re taking on Squires?\" Menelglir says, at this point no longer able to keep himself from interrupting. \"I\'d like to..well..that is..\" Trapped in the rather awkward situation of trying to invite himself along, he falls over his words.

[Gwendion(#24427)]

\"Well, it is not a large ship, but she\'s under-crewed. If you both wish to, I have no objections taking on a few extra men. My mandate seems to imply that such are my orders.\"

He scratches his chin, \"Find a crew, find the Corsairs and hold them at bay.\"

[Arashen(#24692)]

Grinning broadly, Arashen rises from his chair and glances towards the port town a moment before returning his attention to Gwendion. \"Very well, just let me know when we sail.\"

Sparing a glance for his young kinsman, he adds. \"And Menelglir here has not yet been assigned to a Knight so either way he is free to go on this cruise.\"

\"Thank you, sir,\" Menelglir beams. \"I\'ll be ready to leave whenever you are.\" He stands, too, gathering up the mangled blue sleeve. \"I have some business to finish now, though.\"

[Gwendion(#24427)]

With a nod to both of them, Gwendion manages a small smile, \"Tomorrow we can go over the ship, make sure she\'s worthy for the seas. Then gather provisions in a few days be ready to set sail.\"

[Arashen(#24692)]

\"I will meet you at the docks tomorrow morning, then,\" Arashen agrees and then nodding to both adds. \"But I must be along. I have letters for Dol Amroth to send on the next ship out. Farewell to both of you.\"

The tall, youthful Knight takes his leave then, striding off towards the docks.

\"Good day, sir,\" Menelglir says quickly as Arashen leaves, then lowers his voice and speaks to the older Knight. \"He\'s not snot-nosed at all, is he?\" he grins. e

[Gwendion(#24427)]

\"It remains to be seen,\" Gwendion replies with a grin, \"No go. You have work to do and I food to finish.\"

Menelglir\'s eyes go a little wide, and he laughs, then hurries out, blue sleeve in hand.